It was Ms. Gable, the night janitor. She was in her 60s, silver-haired, and always pushing a cart that squeaked. She’d seen Leo through the window, head down.

It was 11:47 PM, and Leo was staring at a mountain of numbers that made absolutely no sense.

But then—a quiet knock at the door.

She sat down without asking. Pulled out a worn copy of Frank Wood’s Business Accounting 1 , the 12th edition, held together with duct tape and determination.

Leo blinked. “How did you—”

“I used to teach this,” she said. “Before I retired. Then I got bored. Now I mop floors and help desperate kids.”